Just One Kiss
by BetaReject
Summary: After years of challenges, denial, political games and platitudes Duchess Satine and Pre Vizsla succumb to their forbidden desires. Satine/Pre Vizsla *Rated T for suggestive sexual situations.*


**Beta:** A huge thank you to **cariel** for beta reading this for me! *glomps*

* * *

It had been weeks since Pre Vizsla had voluntarily turned himself over to the Mandalorian leadership. With the unexpected arrest came an even more unexpected turn of events. The promise of his cooperation to bring down _Death Watch_ ensured he would not face trial or spend time in the prisons. However, he was heavily guarded and watched closely from every angle that he was free to go.

Now the former leader walked amongst them with a smirk on his lips and a gleam of warning in his eyes. Satine did not trust him for an instant, but she could not deny her advisors advice to use Pre's knowledge against his own troops. Satine did not know what infuriated her more: the fact no one else could see that this was just another one of his ploys or the fact she wanted to believe he was being sincere.

His vast knowledge of _Death Watch_ brought them little success until today.

Satine did not allow herself to consider that his sudden assistance was due, in part, to what had transpired between them only a short time ago. Nor did she allow herself to consider that it was one big payoff for getting him out of the Mandalorian prisons. The duchess was far too proud to consider such things, even when she found herself in the arms of her nemesis.

Pre's lips first crushed her own. She would have to remember that fact later. His kiss was entirely unexpected, as was the fire and hunger she felt in it. How typical of him to catch her off guard, only to turn and flaunt it in her face without warning or an apology!

Satine prided herself in rationalizing the facts and disposing of what was fanciful and fruitless. Any fool knew a pacifist and a warmonger could never see eye to eye.

But her own mouth eagerly returned his kiss and his throaty moan sent chills down her spine. Rationalization was the furthest thing from her mind. Her thoughts protested in desperation. This was not Pre. This was not her. This was not real.

Calloused hands pulled her closer as Pre's hard lips trailed down her jaw line before ravaging the soft flesh of her pale neck. Somewhere in the back of her thoughts, Satine recalled having one gown that could cover that little secret. There was no relief to the thought.

Not one to be upstaged, Satine's hands moved of their own accord in a desperate attempt to remove the durasteel uniform that he wore. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered that she was not the only one removing armour. "Why must you wear this foolish get up?" she breathed as manicured fingers fumbled with the clasps of his chest plate.

"The same reason you wear that confounded headpiece," he hissed in reply between heated kisses. She could not see his face but Satine was certain he was smirking.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as his fingers, skilled and passionate, made short work of her layered gown. His throaty purr and hungry lips expressed his appreciation of her form. There would be no looking back now.

The normally sublime duchess was swift to return the favour, ridding the Death Watch leader the last of his armour. It landed on the floor of her quarters with a loud clatter snapping them both out of their passionate haze. Pre's wolfish expression briefly faded as reality threatened to set in. Pausing briefly, they both held one another's gaze, icy azure eyes holding fiery blue orbs.

What the duchess saw in his eyes mirrored her own conflicted thoughts.

This was not how she imagined their private meeting to end; it was supposed to have been professional, filled with political discussions, data pads and fiery debates, just like old times. For years, they had been allies and adversaries alike, dancing around political, religious, and personal issues without reserve. They had known each other better than themselves or so Satine once believed. Whenever they were together sparks flew as their every word became both an unseeing weapon and an unspoken invitation. Yet not once had the duchess ever considered him worthy of being her lover.

Now Pre had proven himself to be a traitor, a warmonger, and a criminal, yet, here they were. This man was beneath her, so why was he here and why was she enjoying it? Satine would be damned if Obi-Wan Kenobi had been right all along.

Knowing it was too late to continue such thoughts, Satine buried her doubts. There would be time enough for them later.

With a hint of a mischievous smile, Satine slipped her fingers around the nape of his neck and pulled Pre in for a passionate kiss of her own. He returned it without hesitation. As her hands explored his body, he moaned her name. A moment later, it was her own voice that betrayed her pleasure as his hands soon resumed exploring her body.

As they made their short journey to her bed, all rational thoughts slipped away as Satine succumbed to the storm of their passions.

It was hours later when Satine who found herself resting in the arms of her now sleeping nemesis. Sated and blissfully exhausted, she began to slip off to sleep. As coherent thoughts and drifting dreams began to intermingle, the memory of Obi-Wan's words echoed in her mind.

_You always were someone who desires forbidden fruit. Just be careful Satine; there is a reason why it is forbidden. _

It would not the last time they succumbed to their desires.


End file.
